Hello, my name is Cleo and I’m a sex relationships councilor. I only write about the cases my patients give me permission to do. I tell them what this site is all about and stress that in order for their story to gain attention, it has to be true and be told in the naughtiest, most detailed manner possible. Why “naughtiest”? Because that is what apparently holds this audience’s interest.
My clients must agree to these conditions and sign a consent form first. I tape their story just as they tell it and then try to write it correctly. I cannot validate every detail in each story is absolutely true, but based upon our numerous therapy sessions I believe they are very close to being accurate.
The following case study is an unusual one. It’s about a young woman named Rosa who completely changed her life, and maybe not for the better. She continues trying to adjust. As with all my clients in all the stories presented here, any interested persons can contact Rosa by including her name in the subject box and sending mail to my mail box here, and I will forward them on to her.
She has read this narrative and with only minor changes, has approved it for my use and possible publication. Although I suspect Rosa may have exaggerated some aspects of her story, this is as near to stating her experiences, as possible:
This is Rosa’s Story:
I’m a 26 year-old married woman and my life has turned out in a very different way than I could ever imagine. My first name is Rosa – my last name is unimportant. I have long dark brown hair, gray eyes and been blessed with a beautiful creamy skin thanks to my heritage. I am small and slender, have slightly above average breasts that don’t sag, and have been told all my life that I am very pretty.
I’m a Mexican Nationalist who is a naturalized US citizen. My husband was born in Arizona. His parents are first generation US citizens from the southern region of Mexico. I tell you this because attitude concerning sex and marriage among the Mexican community is much different than it is with other U.S ethnic groups.
My husband is a mason by trade; working with concrete, pavers or anything stone, he is a master craftsman. He makes a good living and we own an older style very modest house in the suburbs, in a nice quiet neighborhood. Every month, we send money to his grandparents back in Mexico; therefore, things are tight for us at the end of each month.
I work part time for a wealthy retired businessman who lives in a large estate about a mile from our house. Most Mexican men frown upon their wives working, but as I said, things are tight for us financially.
My employer of one year, Mr. Diaz, is probably in his late fifties or early sixties. I say probably because it’s difficult to tell precisely. He plays tennis and golf, and appears to be in good physical condition. His black hair is still thick and bushy, but has some gray at the temples. I’d say that when he was young, he was a handsome man.
He had never been anything but a gentleman around me until a couple months ago. From the first day I went to work for him I could see Mr. Diaz’s wife Mary, was very ill. Over the last six or eight months, she became bed-ridden, and gradually weaker. She seldom leaves her bed now.
The only other person living on the premises is Tito, who came to Arizona on a work permit from Nogales. He’s the gardener and handyman, and drives Mr. Diaz sometimes. Tito lives in a small basement apartment and I seldom see him. When I do, he gives me the creeps the way he stares at me. On more than one occasion he plainly had an erection as he watched me work around the large house, once even rubbing it through his trousers while watching me.
Tito has never attempted to hide his lewd actions from me. He looks like a fat, ugly troll with way-too-long hairy arms. He shaves his over-sized head and his ears stick out, too. I hate him. He wears one of those “wife-beater” undershirts that some Mexican men favor and it’s always dirty, his belly bulging beneath it, hanging over his belt. I always feel like I need a bath after being near him.
Except for playing something akin to what Americans call “post office” with a neighborhood boy when I was nine or ten, my husband is the only man I’ve ever slept with. He travels to jobs all over the state and I suspect he has slept with other women when he’s away. What Mexican man hasn’t?
As for me, sex is okay, but I don’t need it so much that I’d cheat on him. Once a week sex, or maybe even ten days, is fine with me. When I do climax, it’s only like a small firecracker going off, and then it’s gone. Most times I don’t even do that.
About six months ago our sex-life dried up to about once a month and I did miss it a little, mostly the cuddling afterward. It seemed he was always “too tired”, or he had to “get up early”, or he’d just jump on, bang away and climax, hopping off before I even finished. I always think of it as “rabbit sex.” But that’s what husbands do sometimes, so I could live with that.
A couple months ago I was dusting the furniture at work and walked into Mister Diaz’s office unaware he was even there. He was at his desk, doing whatever rich men do with paperwork. He looked up and smiled as I entered.
“Rosa! How nice! Just when I needed help, too. Come,” he said pushing a footstool over for me to sit beside him. Beside it, he placed a cardboard file box.
“When I say a name, look through this index and find the file for me.”
I dropped down on the footstool and we’d only gone through about a dozen names, when things got really weird. I glanced up to find Mr. Diaz had turned his chair toward me and pulled down his sweat pants, his genitals swinging right in front of my face.
Stunned, I froze with my hand outstretched holding a file, unbelieving of what I was seeing. He suddenly grasped my wrist with his left hand, taking the file from me with his right. As I said, I simply froze – like a rabbit confronted by a deadly snake.
Most Mexican women are not prudes, so I suppose I was also gasping at his manhood. My husband’s cock is average sized, about five inches long – maybe even six on a good day. This one was easily twice that size, thick and meaty as my wrist. His cajonies looked like oranges!
Altogether, it was very intimidating. I suddenly became aware that he was pushing my hand downward toward that enormous thing. With my body turned the way I was setting, the pressure on my wrist kept me from even rising to my feet.
“What . . .?”
“Mr. Diaz . . .”
His eyes looked so fierce, I was petrified into silence. Suddenly, he was rubbing the back of my hand, my knuckles, slowly up and down his hard penis. Using his other hand he persistently forced my fist open, turned my palm around and wrapped my fingers around his rigid shaft.
It felt like a piece of marble under a soft velvet cover. Covering my hand with his much larger and stronger one, he slowly worked my hand up and down his meaty cock.
“Please . . .” I muttered, scared to death. “Please let me go, Mr. Diaz. I’m not . . . like that.”
“Yes you are,” he said softly, his eyes now closed, enjoying my touch.
“Mister Diaz . .”
His eyes snapped open, fierce and demanding once again. “Do not talk!” Then he smiled as he took my free hand, also forcing it around his cock. He was in effect, masturbating himself using both my hands.
My mind spinning, I sped through my options. I could scream, but who would hear me? Mrs. Diaz was upstairs sleeping and Tito was in the back garden. I didn’t want that dirty old man to see me like this, anyway. No telling how he’d react. Probably want the same done to him. The neighbors were too far away to notice, or even care. If I could turn around more I might kick him on the leg. What then? My job would be gone and I’d never find another job paying half as well.
What would my husband think? I couldn’t tell him the real reason I’d lost my job. My Mexican husband would never be able to except the fact I’d touched another man’s penis, even if forced to. I decided that with his wife so ill, he probably never had sex anymore and was simply desperate. All Mister Diaz wanted was a quick hand-job and considering my choices, I could do that.
My options limited, I had little choice. I’d just have to grit my teeth and do it, then afterward I’d never let myself be alone with him again. This time I’d do what he wanted because I had to, but if anything else happened after this I’d quit and go home.
Forcing myself to think of other things, I let him manipulate my hands the way he wanted, determined to dodge his discharge when he ejaculated. When it was over I’d go home, take a long hot bath and forget it ever happened. That was my only option.
He released one of my hands but I didn’t remove it – just kept slowly stroking his hard, but velvet-soft, penis. The sooner it was over, the better I decided.
I felt his free hand pressing slightly on my spine and then slowly moving downward across my buttocks. I attempted pulling back, twisting as far as I could, but it went under the hem of my skirt, coming to rest cupping my entire vagina. I stiffened my legs, trying to evade his hand. It did no good.
Through my panties, a finger slid along the outer lips of my vagina, circling it several times as I moved my butt to escape his touch. Struggling, I tried pulling away, but he held my hand tight around his cock and eventually I just gave up. What was the use? He was just too strong.
“Please,” I attempted once more to reason with him.
“You’re wet,” he said.
“I am not!” My face flaming with embarrassment, I wanted to die.
The finger pulled my damp panties aside and slowly slipped inside me. That was when I felt the dampness on my thighs and knew he’d been right. I was wet. I didn’t want this. I was scared out of my wits, so how could I be wet? Closing my eyes, I attempted to breathe, willing my mind to be somewhere else. The finger touched my clitoris and I almost jumped out of my skin, crying out sharply.
He let the finger slowly circle my slippery clit several times. I whimpered softly, heard him chuckle at my unintended sound. He sounded so cruel in the empty room. Another finger joined the first, going deep. I groaned. This time it didn’t sound like a protest even to me.
The hand covering mine on his cock was removed, and I now felt it at the back of my head, grasping the bun at the nape of my neck, clinching tightly around it. He pulled my hair just enough to pinch. A thousand tiny pinpricks letting me know he was the one in control.
My heart was thumping wildly inside my chest and I gulped air, feeling as though I were having a heart attack. The insistent pressure on the back of my head forced me forward, closer to the awful monstrous thing I’d been stroking. I watched in terrified fascination as the clear liquid bubble at its very tip drew nearer. Only inches from my mouth, he stopped.
“Lick it,” he whispered hoarsely.
I tried shaking my head, but it only pulled my hair more. He tightened his grip just enough to get me to comply.
Accepting the fact that that I’d likely throw-up on him if I did as he commanded, the burning of my scalp finally became too much, and I did it. Tangy, sweet, a little salty, that’s all. I didn’t throw up, but I knew with certainty what he wanted now and I didn’t know if I could do it – or if I could even live with myself if I did his bidding. I tried to draw back, but he held me firmly in place.
“Again,” he instructed.
Trying not to think about where it came from, I tasted more of his clear fluid. Then he put even more pressure on the back of my head, forcing the entire crown of his cock between my lips. I tried fighting, but soon decided that what he wanted wasn’t as bad as getting my hair pulled out by the roots.
“Use your tongue.”
The fingers in my pussy were really producing a lot of results now. A third one had joined the other two, sawing in and out of my engorged vagina, slowly driving me up the wall. I realized I was sopping wet, my toes curling of their own accord! I finally did what he wanted, licking and swirling my tongue around the fat head of his cock.
That apparently wasn’t enough though, because soon he pushed my head down on it even more and the meaty cock slowly disappeared inside my mouth. When it hit the back of my throat, I gagged, struggling fiercely to escape. This was all new to me. I was suffocating.
“Stop fighting me!” he said sternly. “Breathe through your nose.”
I did it and that helped a lot. I breathed deeply through my nostrils, feeling that thick piece of meat lying quietly inside my mouth, pre-cum coating my tongue. I wondered what would happen if I bit it, but I feared the consequences of that action, so I just held it there and waited for whatever was to come next. After a while, he slowly began sliding it in and out of my mouth.
This went on for several minutes before I realized I was pushing backward against his fingers, suddenly aware of my rapidly approaching climax. My mind screamed “No, no!” My body said something else. His fingers glided around my slimy clit, cupping my entire vagina and then plunging back inside, the three thick fingers stretching my vagina walls more than my husband’s cock ever had. I groaned around the thick cock.
“Baby likes that, huh?” he whispered hoarsely.
I hated him, but I was so close I couldn’t let it end yet. His cock pushed against the opening of my throat and then entered it. Slipping past the initial resistance, it slid in and down until I finally felt his hairy balls against my chin. I couldn’t breathe but I didn’t fight anymore.
“Breathe through your nose,” he said again, tapping my clit softly.
A tiny spark fired from my clit when he tapped it. Then again, harder, and more sparks flew. I squirmed urgently backward against his hand, moaning softly. He laughed. “Aw yes, I do believe baby is ready.”
He pulled my mouth off his cock until only the large bulbous head remained inside, and then he shoved it in to the balls again. I quickly caught on, soon doing it for him by nodding my head up and down. It slowly dawned upon me that my suction was causing him to make certain sounds of intense pleasure, flooding my mouth with his seminal flow.
For some reason, that also increased my own pleasure. When I took his cock all the way in I found that if I worked my lips and throat muscles around his throbbing meat, he would groan softly, flooding my mouth. When I withdrew I would slid my tongue along the vane underneath it, and he would moan even louder, sometimes grunt while emitting more delicious per-cum. I loved the grunts!
My right hand never left its grasp around his cock, my other had somehow found his large balls, and I was massaging them lovingly as I sucked. More and more clear liquid filled my mouth, but due to the pleasure his fingers were producing, it now tasted like ambrosia.
It felt like sparks were continuously flying from my pussy! Groaning and wiggling I pushed backwards, frantically gyrating my ass against his magic fingers. Suddenly, he stopped and removed his fingers from inside me, leaving my pussy feeling open and empty as cool air rushed inside that hot space.
I moaned in protest, moving my ass around to recapture the pleasure he’d been giving me. Gone, was the good wife of a short time ago. In her place was this unidentifiable slut with a terrible inch, needing only fulfillment. He held my mouth covering the head of his throbbing cock and I worked my tongue as I tried understanding his words.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he said hoarsely, with some difficulty. “I’m going to shoot my load inside your mouth and you’re going to swallow every drop. After you do that I’ll let you cum.”
I didn’t even slow down. I had to get relief or I’d die. I engulfed his cock again, letting my tongue slowly trail up the large vane beneath it and then drove my mouth back to the depts. I felt that huge head popping through the opening of my throat over and over, driving me crazy!
The coolness against my crouch felt empty and wanting. Suddenly his body tensed as his thighs strained against my cheeks, He trembled violently, his breath catching in his throat. I knew for certain that for the first time in my life I was going to swallow a man’s sperm. I was past caring. I guess I actually wanted it. Maybe even needed it!
Moaning and squirming with frustration, my wet thighs sliding against each other in an attempt to quell the burning between them, I redoubled my tongue’s effort and tasted my first shot of cum as it hit the back of my throat.
Soon, it filled my mouth as I struggled to keep from strangling on the huge flow. Glob after slimy glob coated my tongue and mouth, sliding down my throat to pool somewhere deep inside my soft belly. Like a kitten getting its tummy full of warm cream, I continued to lick, suck and slowly milk his throbbing cock with my hand while massaging his balls, until the spurts stopped completely.
Feeling drained but strangely unfulfilled, I waited for his fingers to find my burning pussy, returning the pleasure I’d just given him. Wetness coated my inter-thighs as I spread them farther apart, anticipating the fullness of his fingers again.
As I nibbled on his deflating cock, he attempted to push my head away but I stubbornly resisted, trying to keep his thick meat inside my hungry mouth for just a moment longer. Finally, he roughly pushed me away, laughing as I whimpered softly in protest.
“Damn. You are one greedy bitch,” he said quietly.
Suddenly standing, he pulled me to my feet. He turned me around, facing toward the desk, and pushed between my shoulders until I fell forward across it. Holding me down with a hand in the middle of my back, he knelt between my wide-stretched legs. I felt his hot breath on my crouch, and then he was suddenly devouring my pussy with his mouth.
His face felt like it was completely buried in my crouch, slipping and sliding around inside it, licking and nibbling my clit, his tongue probing deeply inside me. If I’d thought his fingers were divine, his mouth drove me bonkers!
The only orgasms I’d ever experienced were just a few tiny firecracker types. The one his mouth gave me was an explosion! A neutron bomb! The top of my head simply blew off, scrambling my mind and turning my bones to liquid. It went on forever as I gripped the desktop and tried to keep from flying off it – and into outer space.
When the room finally quit spinning, Mr. Diaz was softly licking my thighs and all around my hairy pussy lips. As the tenderness eventually went away, finally he sucked my clit once more. I quickly felt another explosion approaching. I’d never cum twice in one day in my entire life! But here I was, heading for another one.
Just before it arrived, Diaz pulled me to my feet, led me to the couch, He sat down and pulled me into his lap facing him, that evil smile on his lips. A cock of that size was never meant to penetrate a small female like me. I knew that for a fact, but by now I was determined to try.
The “good respectable housewife” I’d always been, was gone now – replaced by this wanton whore practically salivating over the thick throbbing cock before her.
Placing my hands against his hairy chest to keep from impaling myself on that massive fencepost, I slid around on the soft crown for a minute trying to block out the burning pain as I lowered myself on it, forcing some of it inside. It seemed, all my nerve endings terminated in my burning cunt.
I remained that way for a moment, letting my body adjust to the biggest thing I’d ever had inside it. When my legs began trembling due to the strain of hanging there, I simply let gravity do its thing, ignoring the pain until I was sitting flat on his stomach. With my hands still pressing against his chest, I didn’t move for some time.
When I glanced up, I found Diaz with hands locked behind his head, clinically studying me. I didn’t care by then, for the pain had subdued and I could now move a fraction of an inch without it hurting too much.
Using my hands against his chest to push myself up, I eased off his engorged cock about half-way, and then slowly lowered my ass again to engulf the entire thing, feeling his hairy balls tickling my ass. It was heaven. This time his huge cock had gone in more easily, hanging up only once – and I was almost in a state of pure rapture.
When it finally hit bottom the next time, I sat there for a moment adjusting to its girth again. My hands on his chest, I carefully rose and lowered myself several more times, making small circles with my ass – unable to control the tiny sounds now coming from my mouth.
After only a minute or two of doing that I was practically slamming my ass downward, feeling him hit bottom with every plunge. Going out of my mind with pleasure I bit my lip until it bled, screaming, sobbing out things that probably didn’t even make sense. I never wanted it to end!
He suddenly rolled us onto the floor, me on bottom, him taking control on top. There, he hammered into my soft core relentlessly, each violent thrust rattling my slim body as his cock banged against the cervix. I simply loved it. I did! I wanted him to destroy me with that huge cock – to kill me. I was a cheat, a whore. I deserved it.
At one point I found myself whispering into his ear. “Kill me, kill me, kill me . . .”
My thighs gripped his hips tightly, legs hooked around his thrusting ass, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and at that moment I belonged to him. He owned me. I’d never experienced anything like it before.
He crushed his open mouth down on mine and I parted my lips greedily accepting his tongue, sucking it frantically, following it back into his hot mouth with my own. This wasn’t making love with my husband. We were like two animals in the woods, mindlessly fucking – two wild, savage beasts, rutting in the mud, mixing pain with pleasure as he used me like I was his bitch.
Attempting to climb his body and envelope even more of his cock, I screamed out the violent climax I had sought, right into his open mouth as he flooded my insides with wave after wave of hot fluid.
It seemed for a while that I would never stop cumming, the thumping inside my chest so loud I could literally hear it. Then, just before my heart gave out, it slowed – stopping, leaving me completely drained and exhausted.
I slowly came back to earth as his cock softened inside me, our combined cum making a small river into the crack of my ass. Scalding hot only moments earlier, it now felt cold and sticky. As nasty as that sounds, the feeling still excited me, causing me to hold my breath, envisioning its slow route over the puckered rings of my anus.
As his over-sized half-deflated cock slipped out of me like a huge sausage I groaned with the frustration of its loss; my ravaged pussy now feeling empty and abandoned.
Gasping, Diaz lay beside me as I clinched my eyes tightly, attempting to slow my heart and regain normal breathing. It seemed to me that as long as I didn’t have to look at him, I wouldn’t have to face what I’d done. I felt his hand on the back of my neck, roughly pulling me toward him, downward.
“Clean up this mess,” he said, pulling my face closer.
Still leaking cum, his wet cock rested against his thigh like a slimy snake; nasty, unappetizing now that my passion was spent. He pushed my face closer, and resigned to my fate I just took his wet cock inside my mouth and did as he’d told me.
Afterward, numb and in a daze, I dressed and left for home early. My pussy felt a little raw but still tingled pleasantly as I walked, leaking subtlety down both legs. . My husband Raf would be gone for two more days with a job clear across the state. I’d have all night to myself to organize my thoughts. I felt cheap and used, and very confused.
The next day I called in sick to Mister Diaz’s voice mail, buying time while I made up my mind how to proceed with telling my husband why I’d quit my job. When Raf came home I was still a bundle of nerves, but he didn’t seem to notice. We had sex once, but it was the usual – quick like a bunny – then right to sleep for him.
That was when I thought most about what I’d done with Mister Diaz – the scenes flooding my head over and over like a movie – and yes . . . soaking my panties.
As Raf snored beside me I used my entire hand, ruthlessly punishing my pussy. Although my hand was about the same size as Mr. Diaz’s cock, the results just weren’t the same. After I had a small, unrewarding cum, I felt even worse. On the third day, Raf said I looked as if I’d recovered sufficiently from my flu, asking when I was going back to work. That next morning he practically insisted that I go to work.
Walking to work, the closer I got to the Diaz mansion the more that stuff I’d done came crashing back in waves. Each time I forced it aside, it immediately returned. I knew I was constantly wet. I could feel it on my thighs, my panties sticking to me. I stopped half a block from the Diaz Mansion and turned back toward home.
Quickly retracing my footsteps toward the safety of my own home, I’d only gone a few steps before I turned back again. Finally, I just ran toward the large front gate. Tito was in the front garden and he stopped to leer at my pumping legs as I ran past. Briefly, I wondered if he’d heard me crying out that day in Mister Diaz’s office. That was too awful to think about.
I went directly to the office, finding Mister Diaz working at his desk, dressed in dark slacks and white shirt. He looked up as I burst through the door, smiling knowingly. Without saying a word, he turned toward me, slowly unzipped his fly and removed his thick cock, smiling all the time like he simply knew I’d be back.
I didn’t even protest. I just walked over, dropped to my knees and took his delicious cock all the way into my mouth. Okay, maybe I am a whore, but it tasted so good I didn’t care right then. I sucked him until he was ready to give me the treat I wanted, but then he pushed my head away, allowing himself time to calm down a bit before pulling my mouth back over it.
After a few moments of working on it with lips and tongue, he pulled my mouth completely off his throbbing cock and shoved my head downward while holding his cock up out of the way, directing my mouth to his balls.
This was new territory for me. Lovingly, I took each velvet orb into my mouth, sucking gently, nibbling both it and the tiny place between his cock and balls, making love to that delicious place. I was in total ecstasy.
After a while, he pushed my face even lower, allowing me to nibble the tenderness underneath his balls. Hungrily, I did that until slobbers ran down my chin. Then, his hands wrapped in my hair, hurting a little. I felt more pressure as he pushed downward on the back of my head, towards his hairy asshole.
Frightened and repulsed, I initially resisted but he was simply too strong for me. Finally, I saw his wrinkled little hole directly in front of my face, retracting in and out as it waited impatiently. Now that I saw this forbidden place, it looked tender and inviting. Feeling cheap and nasty, I tentatively touched the puckered ring with my tongue, finding it to be clean, soft . . . delicious.
I guess I lost it completely then; biting, licking and sucking his open asshole for a long time. I was finally able to force my stiffened tongue past the resistance, completely inside, rimming him until he literally pushed my mouth away. Feeling like the lowest of whores I squirmed forward and swallowed his cock again.
He immediately flooded my mouth with delicious floods of cream. I swallowed every bit of it, milking his shaft with my hand to get every precious drop. I almost purred as I licked his cock clean and kept nibbling until he insistently, almost angrily, pushed me away again.
Even then, I wanted more. My mind was a mess. I just couldn’t get enough of him. Maybe I was going crazy.
Pulling me to my feet and roughly shoving me over his desk, he entered me from behind, pounding my pussy without mercy – without any warm-up. I didn’t care. I climaxed almost immediately just like I had the previous time. It rocked my small body with explosive convulsions as I lifted onto my toes, offering myself to him completely. It went on so long and so intensely that it robbed my strength, my breath and my senses.
Weak-kneed and trembling he finally pulled me up, and then pushed me back to my knees, where he abruptly stuck his entire cock inside my mouth. I worked on him for almost an hour but to my disappointment he didn’t cum again. By then I was ready for him to fuck me once more, but for some reason, he denied me that pleasure. At first, I asked him to do it, and then pleaded with him to do it.
He finally pushed me back over his desk onto my belly, where I quickly raised my ass for his entry. When I felt his bulbous head against my anus I attempted to pull away and lift higher, giving him a better target. He wasn’t interested in that, and wouldn’t let me lift my ass anymore.
I almost panicked when I realized his intentions. My tender anus was the target he was seeking, and nothing would keep him from doing what he wanted. As he pushed that huge crown against my puckered nether-hole, it felt like it was on fire from the friction.
It seemed to take forever but when the engorged head was finally able to pop inside, it became even worse. The pain was now unbearable. It hurt so much I felt I would die right there, stretched-out over my bosses’ desk like a sacrificial lamb. I briefly wondered what my husband would say when he heard of it.
I think I screamed loudly because he paused for a moment, allowing me to adjust to the pain a bit. Then the fire started again as he pushed deeper inside my bowels. That lasted a very long time, and I was sobbing hard by the time he was all the way in. Sank to the balls at last, he mercifully paused again.
“Rub your pussy,” he said.
I obediently touched my clit and a thrill shot through me as sparks literally flew! I heard him laugh as he eased his cock from my clinching anus, and then slowly pushed it back in. It wasn’t as bad this time. I rubbed my clit harder and felt a huge climax building. I couldn’t tell if it was building inside my asshole, or my vagina! It was awesome!
“Don’t cum until I tell you to.”
Frustrated beyond belief, my fingers slowed down but my heart didn’t, continuing to pound away inside my chest. Suddenly he was plunging into my anus just like he’d done my vagina – and even more amazing, I was lifting my ass to help him violate me.
I could feel every ridge and vain along his meaty cock sliding past the tender ring of my anus, stretching it as nothing ever had until this moment, dragging the lining out as it retreated, shoving it back as it plunged deep again. I’d never felt anything like it.
I’d never dreamed anything like that could happen between a man and a woman. I vaguely wondered if I’d be deformed once it was over. If I’d be ruined forever. Right then I didn’t care. All that mattered was this wonderful feeling, this nasty ultimate high I was experiencing as Diaz pounded into my virgin anus. I reconciled, that I truly was his whore now.
Diaz stiffened, grunted loudly and roared, “Cum, you bitch! Cum hard!”
I only had to rub furiously for about 30 seconds before crying out as my own climax hit, just as he flooded my bowels with thick semen. Gush after warm gush splashed against my colon, bloating my belly, filling me to capacity. I screamed deliriously as it racked my small body, clutching the desk top, feeling as if my legs would give out if I stood. I remember crying out something really vile, nearly out of my mind with the pleasure I was receiving.
When it was finally over and I felt him withdrawing his deflating length from my wounded asshole, I couldn’t even move. Tears ran freely down my face and I could taste salty tears as they ran into my open mouth.
Diaz turned me around, pulled me up and crushed his open mouth down on mine, his tongue probing deep inside. Slowly I reached around his neck, pulled him closer and gave him my own tongue, already feeling a surging desire once more.
I didn’t love this man. Probably didn’t even like him very much, but I was his now. I belonged to him. That final act had cemented it. What had I become? What had he awakened inside me? His hands were on my shoulders pressing down, forcing me to my knees. I collapsed as he said, “Clean me up.” Fully conquered at last, I did as he instructed.
No, I didn’t love Mister Juan Diaz. I didn’t even like him, but from then on I lived for his cock. Not very well put I know, but it’s the truth. From that day forward, his wonderful appendage was never completely out of my mind. I’d never had such pleasure before and I knew I simply could not go back to doing without it.
The following days were a blur, pretty much of a rerun of the first two times. It got so that, I’d walk into a room and find Mister Diaz there. He’d simply pull his cock out and I’d silently drop to my knees and start sucking it. One day on the swimming pool lanai he pulled down his trunks and lay down on his stomach, pulling his ass-cheeks apart.
I knew without being told what he wanted. Feeling utterly degraded – and completely excited – I crawled between his spread legs and rimmed his asshole for most of the afternoon.
He finally rolled over and said, “Go to the upstairs guest room so I can fuck you.”
As I went inside I suddenly glanced up and found Tito standing at the corner of the main residence, staring at us. His baggy pants were tented, so I suppose he’d seen the whole thing. Maybe he’d heard my frequent screams too and already knew what was going on. Was this the only time he’d watched us? Did Mister Diaz know Tito watched us? That creeped me out.
My husband still did me occasionally – like a rabbit – so he was happy. I worked a lot of overtime so I also was happy. Mister Diaz was very generous too, giving me a big raise. I now used enemas regularly because I never knew when Diaz would use my anus for his pleasure, and he always wanted me to “clean it up,” after any type of sex.
Walking to work on Monday mornings my panties was usually so wet by the time I got there I immediately went straight to his office. He was always ready, his half-stiffened cock hanging out waiting for me. Several times during the day, we’d fuck or suck. I admit I was in a desire-crazed state of mind most of the time. I simply wanted his cock inside me all the time, anyway he wanted me to do it.
If a few days went by without getting his cock I’d grow increasingly frustrated until he was stuffing it back inside me again. By the second month, he knew I would do about anything he could think of. He’d trained me well.
One Monday morning I was so hot I practically ran the last block to work, my panties sopping wet by the time I arrived. Tito was nowhere to be seen, so I hurried inside already anticipating what I’d be doing five minutes from now. I burst into Diaz’s office just in time to see him pick up a suitcase.
He said, “I’ll be gone for several days.”
I felt like my breath had been stolen. “Gone?” I cried. “Where . . .?”
“Don’t worry. I left Tito in charge. He’ll carry on my duties while I’m gone. All of my duties,” he said, jerking his head toward his desk.
I turned and saw Tito sitting there, a huge grin on his ugly face.
Diaz walked to the door. “Go on,” he said. “Tito is in charge now.” He closed the door behind him, leaving me in the room alone with that awful man.
Totally confused and so horny I was almost out of my mind I was suddenly starting to be very frightened, too. Fearfully, I glanced at Tito who was now sitting with his cock hanging outside his pants, just stroking it and grinning ugly. It then became clear what Mister Diaz had meant. He wanted to keep me hooked on cock while he was gone. Afraid I’d come to my senses while he was away, he’d intended this to happen!
I knew I could simply walk out and leave, but would he let me return later if I did that? In any event this lie I was living could finally be over. All I had to do was walk out right now! Could I live with that? Go back to the way things used to be? Go back to the “Rabbit sex” thing, twice a month? No. I knew I could not do that.
I looked at Tito’s imposing cock and shivered. It was just as large as Mister Diaz’s, probably thicker, but it was very ugly. Crooked and knobby-looking, it protruded at least a foot from beneath a rolling slab of belly-fat, jerking every few seconds like it was a living thing trying to get at me. My heart pounded in my chest as something akin to terror gripped my throat, causing me to shiver with revulsion.
I felt almost nauseous. He grinned like he knew exactly what I was thinking, and couldn’t care less as he lovingly stroked that massive cock, filling it with engorged blood and causing it to throb.
“Come here,” the Troll said rather forcefully in the thick accent of Mexico’s desert Indian people. Everything he said sounded like an unintelligent grunt.
Shaking my head silently I backed away, my eyes fixed on that huge appendage like it might attack me if I looked away. Moving to the door I opened it, but was unable to leave. I just stood there, my head down. I couldn’t walk through that door. I wanted to leave, but I knew I’d never see Mister Diaz again if I did. Of course, there was that other thing as well . . . my soaked panties . . . our usual Monday Morning fuck!
Hating myself, I glanced back and saw his huge cock jerk once and then again, sending another shiver through me. This shiver was different than the last one though. I felt an insistent flood seeping through my already drenched panties, running down the inside of my thigh.
Hanging my head in defeat, I slowly turned and looked straight at him. He just held his cock out toward me, grinning. Then sighing in defeat, trembling all over, my knees growing weaker with each step, I moved nearer.
“Closer puta!” he said, anger suddenly shooting from his eyes. He said some other things in Spanish, causing me to cringe. I could tell he was low-bred, by the manner in which he spoke.
I was now within reach, trying to force my fear down. He tilted his head downward and then looked back up, straight into my fear-widened eyes. I knew what he meant. I’d seen Diaz do that very same thing many times. Had Tito been spying on us when he did it? That was just too awful to even imagine.
Without willing it I slowly sank to my knees, gulping air through an open mouth as I violently trembled from head to toe. Tito held his dick out toward me, that open eye at the very tip staring straight into my soul. I saw the clear liquid drop that had formed on it, quivering, threatening to run down its side. I just blanked my mind, opened my mouth wider and . . . did it.
The taste was terrible, stinging my tongue and bringing tears to my eyes, probably because his hygiene wasn’t all that good. But that quickly went away and only the sensation of thick meat sliding over my tongue was left. I just held the large mushroom head in my mouth for a moment, not wanting to think. He quickly grew tired of that, placing his hand at the back of my head, forcing my mouth down farther.
Soon I was swallowing the whole thing, licking and sucking as though it were Mister Diaz. The only differences were the ugly knobs on his cock and the rough feeling against my lips as they passed over them. He came in less than two minutes.
It must’ve been a long time since he’d had a female because he squirted at least a pint of thick cum into my mouth! I tried pulling away, but he held my head firmly in place, pumping his groin up like he was fucking my face. When he was finished I attempted pushing him back, but he just held me there, and his cock never did go completely soft.
After a while he pulled me to my feet and almost threw me onto the couch, climbing between my out-stretched legs. There were no preliminaries, no warm-up. He simply forced what felt like a fence-post inside my vagina, and unceremoniously began plowing into me. That was when I realized I was absolutely slick with my own fluids. I was so wet!
Suddenly I was gripping him between my thighs, my arms around his neck, lifting to meet his savage thrusts.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck . . .” he kept muttering softly.
“Yes, yes, yes . . .” I whispered frantically.
I felt every ridge and vane on his ugly cock as it passed in and out of my vagina lips. Now that he was inside me, he felt much bigger than Mister Diaz. It seemed he was pulling my vagina walls out each time he left my pussy, cramming it back inside with each violent thrust. I didn’t care. If he ruined me, so be it. All that mattered now was that awesome cock jarring me with every thrust!
The fact that it was crooked and knobby, now worked to his advantage, sending thrills and ripples through me each time they moved inside my body. Fireworks were starting somewhere deep inside my head, the sparks beginning to fly once more.
He stuck his tongue into my mouth, and groaning I accepted it, lashing out with my own as I climaxed so hard it jarred my slender body. Over and over the waves slammed into me, making me lose consciousness for several seconds each time.
I’d not even finished cumming, when he pulled out and roughly flipped me over, slamming his cock back into me quickly. Doggy style he could go even deeper and he never let up, wrecking my helpless body with every hard thrust. It felt as though he were trying to push inside my cervix. I felt him cum again, his thick liquid splashing around inside me like an open faucet.
He came almost as much as he had the first time. Again his cock didn’t go soft, but he rested, gasping for breath in my ear, unmoving for a long time. Unknowingly though, he’d awakened me again with his last cum.
I wiggled frantically from beneath him, pushed him onto his back and straddled him, sliding down on his cock. I rode him like a wild stallion, crying, laughing and slamming into him just as he’d done me.
I felt the rapture building inside my loins once more, fire and pressure raging to be let out. When I came, screaming and rolling my ass around on his fat belly, it was even more intense than the first time. I finally fell forward and passed out on him.
I stayed home the following day, revolted by what I’d done with that awful brute. I wanted to call in sick again, but Diaz would be gone for a week and I knew he’d be pissed if I did, and besides, I’d be climbing the walls by the time he returned.
I had half a day to think about it anyway because I didn’t even see Tito until mid-afternoon. I looked up to find him standing beside the tool shed out back, wearing that dirty undershirt, grinning evilly as he stroked his long cock under a sagging slab of fat.
Revolted and nauseous by what I’d seen, I ducked back from the window holding my breath, praying he hadn’t seen me. I peeked out and found him staring at the window. He glanced downward toward his shaft, and waddled toward his basement room. I knew what that meant, but I’d be damned if I would be his bitch – at his beck and call anytime he wanted a blow job!
I washed a few more dishes but my mind was rushing like it was on drugs, visions of a giant throbbing cock, my panties drenched. I dropped a cup and broke it, then placed my hands on the counter top and stood with head bowed, tears stinging my eyes. As I slipped out of my panties I bit my lip until it hurt, and then just dried my hands and went downstairs.
He was already undressed by the time I arrived, his cock hard and throbbing, looking like a meaty post. I just sank to my knees and swallowed him completely, his hairy balls bouncing on my chin. The initial stinging on my tongue told me he probably hadn’t bathed since we’d been together, but that soon went away and all that was left was the warm taste of meat sliding across my tongue.
I unbuttoned my dress as I worked on it, slipping it off my shoulders. I slobbered on his cock until I felt saliva running down my chin, dripping onto my breasts. I sucked him, nibbled his balls and licked up his droplets until he finally came deep down my throat. It seemed endless but I didn’t lose a drop.
After he stopped spurting into my mouth, I tenderly sucked him some more to keep him hard, because I needed to have relief too.
After a while, he literally forced my mouth off his cock, turned me around onto my knees, and entered me doggy style. He didn’t slide it in, he jammed it in! There were no preliminaries, no warm-up. It felt like he’d torn me apart. Despite the pain I was soon wiggling backward in response to his savage thrusts. There was nothing tender about it.
He hammered that fence-post sized piece of meat into my soft core like a battering ram, jarring my smaller body forward an inch each time. After a while of this, I felt his rough hands slid under my belly and my knees lifted off the floor.
He didn’t let up. If anything, his hammering intensified. I simply hung there like a battered piece of meat, this new angle allowing him to thrust even deeper, banging viciously against my cervix with every hump, producing delicious pain each time it did.
I was no longer a participant in the act. I was a victim, violated and used solely for his pleasure. He might as well have been masturbating. I’d never felt so helpless, so used . . . so fulfilled.
My climax hit like a freight train, slamming me into a semi-conscious state of mind, only letting me recover briefly until the next one hit. Over and over, multiple orgasms racked my slender body. At one point I realized I was screaming mindlessly, trying impossibly to rotate my ass, unable to because it was suspended in space. Instead I clinched my ass cheeks and clawed at the carpet.
I wondered if Mrs. Diaz was awake and could hear me. Gone was the innocent young girl, the good daughter, the dutiful wife. My husband, my priest, my own mother could walk through the door right then, and I wouldn’t have been able to stop.
I hung supported only by his rough hands under my belly, my thighs parted, pussy open and completely vulnerable as he relentlessly plowed his turgid cock deep inside my soft belly. I briefly wondered what we must look like if a stranger happened in.
Just when I thought I couldn’t possibly climax anymore, another one shook me right to my very soul. Drained, hanging limply in his hands, I heard myself whimpering like a small hurt animal as he fucked me like I truly was his bitch.
Mercifully, I finally felt him squirting inside me, flooding my pussy, drenching it with thick sperm – warm, soothing and delicious, running down the insides of both my thighs. When he was done, he unceremoniously dropped me onto my stomach, where I either blacked out or went to sleep for a couple minutes.
I don’t know how long I was out but I awoke as he rolled me over on my back. Opening my eyes I found myself staring straight up into his asshole, his large hairy balls swaying as he vigorously jerked-off directly over my head.
I just lay there watching him do it, letting him cum on my face. I was a whore – a two-timing, cheating little slut. I deserved it. I closed my eyes just as the first globs splattered all over my face, plastering one eyes shut.
When I heard him leave, I got my breathing under control and my bones solidified once more, then stumbled into the restroom. I stood under the shower for a long time before I somehow made it home, dropping onto the couch and sleeping for hours.
The next morning I stood at the kitchen sink doing Mrs. Diaz’s breakfast dishes again, thinking about how revolted I’d been afterward. I was completely repulsed by that despicable person. He made me sick. So why then, did I allow him to use me like that? Subtly, I guess I knew.
Mister Diaz had broken something inside my physic that first day in his office. Maybe it had happened to others, I don’t know. Maybe to all those pretty girls I knew who’d gone bad after leaving high school. Had the same thing happened to them? What I knew was, all I thought about anymore was getting fucked. Not just fucked, but used, humiliated and even hurt a little.
Maybe the “hurt” was partially to relieve some of the guilt I felt. Like right then, just thinking about that nasty brute cumming right on my face, made the breath catch in my throat. I was totally unaware my hand had travelled under the hem of my maid uniform, cupping my vagina.
Quickly drying my hands, I went to find Tito. I found him working at the tool table, fixing something. He didn’t stop working, accept to point under the table with one hand. I crawled under it like an obedient dog and fumbled with his zipper.
Reaching inside, I felt him stiffen, pulled it out and was greeted by a whiff of nasty cock. I let it finish hardening inside my mouth, I was that eager. I sucked him for over an hour, tasting his pre-cum, stopping when he got close, and then starting again when his legs had stopped trembling.
Finally, he pulled me from under the table, bent me over it and slammed his engorged cock inside my pussy. I came immediately. It was one of three during the afternoon.
After fucking Tito for a while now, I have come to the conclusion that although it doesn’t visually appear so, his meaty shaft is substantially more formidable than Mr. Diaz’s. Whether this is true due to its obscene crook, or that he simply uses it to savage me without any consideration of my own pleasure, I don’t know.
In any event, every time he pushes me over a desk or table, or forces me into the doggie position, my tender asshole clinches tightly with expectation. I pray it never dawns on him to insert his huge cock into that tight, dry orifice. I know without a doubt that it would kill me.
Still I never hesitate to show it to him whenever he wants, even offering it to him willingly, daring him to do me that way – probably feeling as if I deserve it for just being the whore I’ve become.
I soon realized Tito wants sex all the time. Five, six, sometimes, seven times daily. Maybe it’s because he’s of lesser intelligence, but how he does it I don’t know. As for me, I just feel like a total whore and deserve anything that happens to me, so I let him do whatever he wants even if I’m not in the mood and ready to do it again. I usually end up enjoying it most of the time though.
I tried avoiding him, but he always seems to know how to find me – just walking up to me and pulling out his cock. Sometimes I’m so tender between my legs that that sucking him off seems like the lesser of the evils. I can’t deny that I love the feel of a cock in my mouth though – the taste of his cum, too. I still ran the last block to work, wet and dripping.
Mister Diaz came back and we started our routine once more. Only now, I had two sex addicts after me with their large throbbing cocks. Somehow I managed it, realizing that I was addicted to sex. I usually arrived home at the end of the day, so weak and exhausted I could barely walk.
That was about the time Raf told me he’d gotten a job offer and we were moving to California – and I panicked. I knew I’d never be able to go back to the meager sex I’d had before Mister Diaz. I didn’t know what to do. When I told Mister Diaz of this plan he told me I could live at his mansion until I found another place – if I stayed and worked for him.
It implied more than he said, but one morning I packed two suitcases and left a note for Raf, walking the mile I’d walked so many times during the past year. No one was there when I arrived except for Mrs. Diaz. I fed her and changed her sheets, and later found Mister Diaz in his office.
He said, “I’m going to the airport in an hour. I’ll be gone for a few days. Just put your bags in Tito’s room. You’ll be sleeping there for the time being. I’ll make arrangements when I return.”
He walked out leaving me with my mouth hanging open. I’d already packed my clothes and left Raf a note! He’d undoubtedly read it by now! I’d thought I was getting a room of my own! I didn’t know I’d be sleeping with that nasty brute! I was so fucked!
Needless to say, after that my life as I’d known it fell apart. I started going to see Cleo, my therapist, a few months later and she has helped me cope with what I’ve become. If you’d like to hear more about my fall from being a dutiful young wife, to becoming the slut I now am, let me know and I’ll ask Cleo to help me write more. I am slowly trying to turn my life around again and with her help, I’ll do it.